i want to live and i want to love...i want to catch something that i might be ashamed of...

I'm in recovery mode after a night of debauch. Met someone at Luxx during the DJ Oil and Boyracer set. I used to see them on their Monday (read: no cover) slot, but it's been a while, and God, I'm so over it now. Sterling, I say drop your whole Liebling or Lieblings or Ding-Dong Farbe let's-cut-and-paste-old-New-Wave-into-new-New Wave now before it's too late. The whole Electroclash scene is going down as fast as a Boiler Room barback @ 3AM. Jesus, the only redeeming factor are the assymmetrical haircuts--and we all know that Wooster and Ann Arbor heroin chic kids circa '92 had that shit down way before the big BK (hey, I love the borough but I've got to call it like I see it, homegirlz and boyz).

Anyway, yeah, yeah, yeah-- I met someone. A big blonde Dutchman. (Too many muscles to be Kinsky-like, TRUE, sorry). I bought him a few Sam Adams at the bar and he told me about how he was enrolled in classes at the Actors Studio. "Wow," I commented, "They have quite the illustrious alumni." "Really?" He asked, completely serious, his blue eyes as clear as Canadian lakes. "Like who?"

Later on he got ripped off on some E and gave me one. I reluctantly took it. You know I think it's the stupidest drug in the world. Who wants to be happy and hugging everyone for six hours? I'll take a fat gram of coke anyday. Get things done--and it's a diet aid as well! But whatever, he was hot so I swallowed. (I always swallow.) We went back to his place, down the block on Kent. He asked me if it was kicking in yet. I said I thought so because I didn't want to dissapoint him. The pills were 25 bucks a piece. He went in slowly, building a romantic rhythm, but it was all just pressure to me--a localized thump and rub against my constricted insides. I closed my eyes and saw Elizabeth Taylor out on the edge of a Quay. I felt numb. I guess I was having a good time.

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